Little Words
by Thalia Castellan
Summary: Letters make words:  words make sentences, and sentences form complete, coherent thoughts. Sometimes though, the words you have don't fit together; and when they don't, you never make it to sentences, let alone coherent ones.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Actually, this all **_does_ **belong to me! **

**Beta: Thank you **Ariadne's Twin **for being a very helpful Beta, and thank you **Zoe Nightshade **for having a group of good Betas available.**

**Inspiration: Because the **Percy Jackson **archive doesn't have enough OC stories, right? But even among all the Mary-Sue, gets-claimed-by-one-of-The Big Three-and-then-becomes-the-hero-of-the-next-Great Prophecy, I've found several **_good_ **OC fics. I'm hoping mine is more on the 'good' side of the scale.**

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Little Words:_

_Mistake: a word that means 'to do wrong'_

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Eric Huntington never meant to fall in love. Actually, that was a lie. He did mean to fall in love. Just not at seventeen. And most certainly not to an immortal woman, who, while beautiful, could never be any kind of wife or girlfriend figure.

Something else he hadn't meant to do was get this very beautiful, but very not-right-for his-future women pregnant. And if the Fates were determined to make him do so, then at least couldn't they have let him wait ten years?

But since Eric was a reasonable and levelheaded person, he didn't show any of his doubts to the immortal embodiment of force. Not even when the week old baby girl opened her eyes to reveal eyes ringed with red-just like her mother's.

He put on the facade of happiness because Bia didn't need to see that after seeing the angry red rings around her eyes, he actually feared his tiny daughter. Nor, he decided, did she need to know that unless he found a way to change the grades on all of his report cards since the fifth grade, he wasn't getting into a college, or getting an even half-decent job, and their daughter would therefore probably live a less then well-off life.

The other thing she didn't need to know was that Eric hadn't really been emancipated; his very sweet -but not quite all-there- aunt was living upstairs while his parents toured the world on a cruise the same aunt had won- though she refused to say how or with whose money.

Before she'd left, Bia had discussed names with him. They'd decided on Kiara. Eric had only agreed because it meant 'dark'- or at least, that's what Bia had told him it meant, and not only did he -being seventeen- think it was 'very cool' to be named after darkness, but he also thought that it kind of went with her heritage.

After Bia had gone, he'd decided to give the tiny, wailing infant the middle name Rosalind, hoping that by naming her after his mother, he might stand a better chance of not being kicked out of the house when his parents finally returned.

* * *

"You did what?"

Eric winced and bit the side of his bottom lip. "I-"

"I heard you the first time!" His mother yelled, glaring at her son through her emerald green eyes.

"You did?" Eric recoiled from his enraged mother; eyes darting to his father, who was throwing back shots of the Everclear he'd bought during their last road trip to Texas- he would be raging drunk within minutes.

"Yes," Rosalind replied, splashing some of her husband's alcohol into her cranberry juice. "And I have a plan."

"A plan?" Eric squeaked, eyeing his sleeping daughter.

Rosalind drained her glass in one chug and reverted her attention back to her son. "Our neighbors were on the cruise with us, and they mentioned that they have a daughter your age who wants to go to Stanford. Only, they can't afford to pay tuition, and they're too damn stubborn to ask their rich relatives for money."

"That's-"

Holding up a hand, Eric's mother continued her speech. "Your father is going to get her a full scholarship. And you, my filthy excuse for a son, are going to pretend that Trinity is the mother of your daughter. Got that?"

"Yeah," Eric whispered, tracing the name of Kiara's real mother in the thick layer of dust that covered the kitchen table. "Yeah, I've got that." Sighing, he brushed the three letters away regretfully: He really had made an enormous mistake.

* * *

Light streamed through the yellow curtains, and no matter where he looked, there were drawing of rainbows and unicorns, princesses and huge, multicolored flowers. There was even a four-by-four poster decorated with hearts and polka-dots with the word Friendship spelled across in huge, block lettering.

Overall, the room made Eric wonder if the government was lying when it said that his tax money was being used to improve schools.

He was jerked out of his musings by the voice of the kindergarten teacher, Ms. Elliot. "Mr. Huntington, the school board is... Concerned about your daughter."

Eric's eyes narrowed and he observed the young woman through dark green eyes, his expression difficult to read. "There's a school board for the kindergarteners?" He asked finally, his eyebrows knitting together skeptically.

The fair haired teacher seemed to believe he was joking, and started to laugh. And because he had learned it was easier that way, Eric laughed too.

"You're funny," The teacher said finally, recovering her breath. "But seriously, we had Kiara tested for ADHD, and she tested positive. Because of her disruptive behavior- she continuously hit other students during nap-time; and she wouldn't listen to anything I said- we have to put her on medications. But for the doctor to continue administering the-"

Ms. Elliot's rumblings were cut off by Eric, whose tone had gone from light and playful to icy and authoritative. "You did what?" He asked, his voice was low, but in the still room, they seemed to echo.

The kindergarten teacher looked almost offended, and she opened a drawer of her desk and handed him dark blue clipboard with a few leaves of paper on it. "I assure you, the drug is very light, and there are no lasting consequences."

"Did I give my permission for you to do this?" Eric asked; his voice still low and cold.

"Well, no. But you see, Kiara was starting fights, and we had to do something..." The young woman trailed off, seeing the steely look in her combatant's eyes.

"Don't ever give her anything ever again unless I say it's all right," Eric thundered, snapping the clipboard neatly in two. Heather Elliot jumped, surprised. Eric almost felt sorry for her; it wasn't like him to yell or throw any kind of fit.

But then he remembered the drugs his daughter was on, and he stormed out of the classroom to where his tiny daughter was sitting, eyes glazed over and legs swinging listlessly. They left together, Eric practically having to drag Kiara because her inborn senses had been so badly smothered.

He never did find out the real reason Ms. Elliot had called him to her office. If he had though, he would have been confronted with a badly drawn picture of a little, sandy haired girl holding the hand of a beautiful woman who she had claimed was a goddess.


	2. Chapter 2

**Beta: **Once again, I would like to thank Ariadne's Twine for all the help with grammar and spelling (And it is actually _Ariadne's Twine _not _Ariadne's Twin_, as I misspelled it before.)

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_Little Words:_

_Pride: a type of stupidity_

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Trinity Williams was a difficult person to get along with. She was flighty, yet levelheaded. Her temper was easily provoked, but she forgave quickly. She was a redhead with a nose for trouble, but had enough sense to rarely, if ever, be caught. Pretty much everything about her contradicted with something else.

At sixteen, she had finished high school two years early, and was looking into colleges. For the summer months however, her goal had simply been to relax and spend time with her parents and best friend, Sophie.

The trouble with being sixteen was that Trinity thought it was perfectly normal to start summer vacation by leaving your boarding school in your shiny new car and driving down to Florida in order to board your parents' cruise ship.

She was also having a problem coming to grips with the fact that Stanford didn't seem to be at all interested in taking on a young student with only average grades.

Because Stanford was having such a hard time seeing her for the brilliant girl she was, Trinity found herself standing in front of her full-length mirror, wearing her sleeveless purple cocktail dress and black pumps.

Licking her finger and twisting a curl that had come undone from its bun, Trinity smiled at her primped face. Even if her parents (who weren't sharing why they had been invited to dine at the next-door neighbors' house) seemed a bit ill at ease, she was gorgeous. Her new gold hoop earrings were studded with emeralds that matched her wide eyes, and her lipstick really brought out the natural color in her Irish skin.

"Honey, are you ready yet?" Trinity's mother called up the staircase for the eighth time. "We're going to be late!"

Trinity sighed and put the tube of lip-gloss she'd picked up back down. Grabbing her black shawl off her bed, she tossed her head, forgetting her hair was up. She hated being rushed.

Closing the door carefully behind her as she left her bedroom, Trinity barely caught herself before she licked her lips in anticipation. She liked surprises, and this one was sure to be good. After all, the Huntington son was quite attractive.

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"May I be excused... Just for a moment?"

The four adults at the dinner table exchanged quick glances, and then nodded as one. Trinity scrambled to her feet and hastily made her way out of the dining room and down the hall, towards the bathroom-careful to avoid the lose floorboard she'd tripped over on her way in.

Shutting and locking the door firmly behind her, Trinity sunk down onto the tiled floor. Everything was ruined. Her sort-of dream boy, Eric Huntington, had gone and gotten some chick pregnant, and now his parents wanted her to pretend to be 'that girl,' as they referred to her.

Sucking on her upper lip (at this point, looking good for Eric wasn't a high priority), Trinity thought over the deal: If she pretended to be Eric's daughter's mother, then Eric's father would get her into Stanford. Of course, she had hoped to live on campus, but part of the bargain was her moving in with the Huntingtons. It wouldn't be that bad, Stanford was only a short drive away, but still... Pretend to have had a baby at fifteen? That was a bit much. Even for a scholarship to her favorite college of all time.

Before she could ponder the pros and cons of either option, someone knocked on the bathroom door.

"Hey, Trinity, are you in there?" It was Rebecca, her mother. She didn't sound worried, but perhaps a bit irritated. It was hard to tell, not being able to see her and all.

"Yeah, I'm here." Trinity sighed and stood up. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the sink, she wrinkled her nose and reached into the clutch handbag she carried with her at all times and pulled out powder and lipstick.

Outside the bathroom, Rebecca shuffled a bit, and glanced down the hallway to make sure no one was coming. "I just wanted to make sure you know that your father and I are one hundred percent behind you with your decision not to go through with this crazy plan. The best thing to do at this point is simply to walk away."

Inside the small room, Trinity stopped glossing her lips. For a moment, she stood there, frozen. Then she thought of the tiny, community college her parents were hoping she would attend. And how, after that, they hoped she would work in the family's Irish pub, waiting tables and serving beer.

There was no way in hell she was going to conform to that.

"Actually," She said calmly, opening the door and brushing past her startled mother. "I'm not quite sure what you mean about walking out. I have a daughter now; I can't just up and leave. It would be irresponsible."

* * *

"Mommy, why are my eyes red?"

Trinity winced at the term of endearment, and stopped peeling potatoes long enough to look up at the abnormally small five year old sitting in front of her and shrug. "No idea. Ask your father." She went back to scraping her dinner.

Whom had she been kidding, those five years ago, when she had thought she would be able to attend Stanford? Mr. Huntington had gotten her in, as promised, but after two months, she had been expelled. The workload had been too much, she hadn't understood a word any of her teachers said, and helping with the tiny, squalling infant that she would come to know as Kiara, took up to much of her time and energy to try and learn all the things she had missed.

"Is daddy home?"

"Not yet." Trinity bit her tongue as her potato peeler bud into her skin, and blood bloomed, dizzyingly bright against the pale skin of the vegetable.

This had become her life. Playing dutiful homemaker and loving mother. It was all a lie, she hated both roles with a heated passion, but she was a good actress. And every time the thought of leaving crossed her mind, all she had to think about was her mother's smug face when she turned up at her parents' doorstep.

It was her stupid, foolish pride that refused to take a beating that kept her with Eric and his young daughter.


End file.
